


not to see, only to feel

by ponticle



Series: Agony and Audacity [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Consensual Non-Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Roughhousing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16392629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponticle/pseuds/ponticle
Summary: Cullen is utterly at Adaar's mercy...





	not to see, only to feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [little_abyss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_abyss/gifts).



> Basically no plot at all... just Cullen getting fucked.

* * *

_It burns._

Cullen bites his lip and grits his teeth, but he’s not sure he can stand it.

 

To say that Adaar’s cock is massive would be an understatement. Of course, it _should_ be; it’s proportionate. When Cullen first had the thing thrust into his face, he almost choked — _before_ it even reached his lips… just the anticipation of such a thing began a process of coiling inside his guts… a thick, overwhelming, nauseating feeling that he once detested, but grew to crave.

Now, with this huge cock filling him from edge to edge, he wonders if it’s the _idea_ of the thing or the thing itself that makes it hurt so perfectly.

Adaar grabs his hips and drags him backward. His knees scrape painfully against the hardwood floor of Adaar’s room and a beam of moonlight glints across his field of vision, rendering him temporarily blind. It’s better — not to see, only to feel. He wants to reach down and touch his own cock, where it hangs between his thighs, but he doesn’t dare. There are no rules — he _could_ — but something about the way he’s at Adaar’s mercy tells him he shouldn’t… that something will fundamentally change about this arrangement the moment he seems like he’s enjoying it. Adaar likes it when he’s visibly fraught.

The thrusts come quicker now, each one threatening to crumble his resolve _and_ his repose. He feels his chest getting closer and closer to the ground, although he doesn’t mean for it to.

“Straighten up,” grunts Adaar. He pulls back on Cullen’s hips again, forcing his cock even more deeply inside in the process. “I’m not fucking around,” he adds, when Cullen finds he can’t comply.

The world feels like a dream… or a nightmare… the agony — and rapture — is overwhelming and he sees spots while the next few thrusts finally topple him, ass up in the air, spine sloping toward the floor. Adaar says something just as Cullen’s cheek touches down, but Cullen doesn’t hear it. His eyes are closing and he’s almost in that place — that place where pain explodes into a haze of pleasure…

...but then he’s being dragged up. A huge hand wraps around his throat and the air gets thin. He coughs, struggling against Adaar’s strength.

“If you can’t listen, I’ll have to be more forceful,” says Adaar. There’s almost a laugh in his voice, but Cullen doesn’t think it’s funny. It’s the ultimate display of power: irreverence in the face of all this.

The hand around Cullen’s neck loosens slightly when his torso is almost upright, but doesn’t go away. It’s there: a reminder. He feels the skin of his back rubbing against Adaar’s chest with each slow thrust.

Then Adaar leans in to whisper, “If you can hold it together, there’s a reward in it for you tonight.” He laughs again, his lips brushing past Cullen’s ear.

“What is it?” chokes Cullen. He knows it’s a risk to speak, but Adaar likes to talk and the words he says — dear Maker — they’re compelling.

Adaar smiles, letting a tooth graze Cullen’s neck, before he answers. At the same time, he stills, letting his cock sit halfway into Cullen — poised for _something_.

“Do you want to touch yourself?” asks Adaar suddenly.

Cullen knows it’s a trick. If he says yes, he will surely be denied, but if he says no, there might be reprisals for that, too. Wracked with indecision, he says nothing.

Adaar snaps his hips forward suddenly. Cullen cries out. It’s not a word, but it means everything: dear Maker, please no… please _yes_.

“Do you?” repeats Adaar, holding his cock so deep in Cullen, Cullen isn’t sure he can stand it.

Cullen grits his teeth and manages, “Yes….”

“Then grab it,” says Adaar.

Cullen obeys, wrapping his shaking fingers around his cock in a clumsy fist. The first few strokes don’t work right; he can’t remember how to do anything but what he’s explicitly told. While he’s struggling, Adaar puts his mouth into the crook between Cullen’s neck and shoulder and bares his teeth, biting and sucking the skin into something Cullen is sure will leave a mark. It’s the pain that he needs, though. It brings him back to the present and his hand works again. He drags it up and down over his cock in increasingly fast strokes.

“That’s it,” says Adaar. His gigantic head comes even farther forward — over Cullen’s shoulder — so he can see up close what’s going on. He seems rapt and he moans, “Are you close?”

Cullen doesn’t want to answer. Using words now seems all wrong, but it’s what Adaar wants — what he _always_ wants — so he tries, “Yes. Close.”

“Good,” says Adaar.

Then he thrusts again. Once. Twice. Three times. Hard, full, torturous thrusts. Cullen knows he’s about to come all over his own hand. He bites his lip and braces for it.

“Stop,” says Adaar suddenly.

_What?_

Cullen drops his cock and groans as a droplet of precome cools against the air. He is so close his whole body is vibrating. He feels himself contract around Adaar’s cock and he pushes himself backward without meaning to, desperate for _something_.

Adaar laughs again. It’s even more infuriating than it was before. “Stay right here. Feel it. You’re so close; I can tell.”

Cullen wants to scream that _of course he is_. He’s at the stage of arousal where he’s furious and wild. Again, he pushes himself back onto Adaar’s cock, but it’s not enough. Everything in him burns to be touched.

Suddenly, Adaar’s hand is back around Cullen’s neck — tightening. “Touch it again — both hands.”

Cullen grabs his cock and encircles it, one fist over the other.

“Fight through this,” says Adaar. His hand tightens further.

Cullen tries to say something, but his voice doesn’t make it past the vice of Adaar’s fingers. Air whistles out of his throat where words should be.

“Keep going,” says Adaar. His voice is stern now and his thrusting grows faster and deeper. It’s the kind of movement that Cullen knows heralds the end — the kind of thrust that Cullen wants…

Even so, Cullen struggles. His arms are tired and heavy. There’s no blood left anywhere but his cock. He imagines it has swelled to the size of Adaar’s — skin tight and purple.

“Fuck.” He’s not sure if he thinks it or says it, but it doesn’t matter. The whole world explodes as he finally comes. It’s hot all over his hands, which continue to fumble against his leaking cock.

“Yes, don’t stop,” says Adaar.

Cullen tries, although it’s starting to hurt more than help. He’s beginning to _notice_ that tight hand on his throat now, too, but he rubs and grabs and pulls his softening cock in circles…

...and then the heat is _inside_ him too. He _feels_ Adaar come before he even makes a sound. Adaar is composed even in coming. The thrusts turn erratic for a second and Cullen feels a line of hot liquid run down the inside of his thigh… and then the grip on his neck finally starts to relax. The world comes back into focus; air fills his lungs.

 

He doesn’t know how long they kneel there, pressed against each other, breathing in bursts, but he doesn’t care. He would stay here all night if it meant they didn’t have to face the world again — if the worst he had to fear was asphyxia. Eventually, he coughs and Adaar releases him onto his hands and knees on the floor.

“You did well,” says Adaar. That laugh in his voice is back. Cullen loathes it, but he smiles anyway, not looking up. “Clean yourself up before you go?” he asks.

Cullen nods, swallowing thickly against the dryness in his mouth as he hears the bathtub start to fill.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yup... so that's the raunchiest thing I've written in a while, but I had to remember how dicks worked. Thanks for the prompt, aby. ;)


End file.
